


My Funny Valentine

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: Taserbones Tumblr Prompts & Tiny (Adorkable) Fics [26]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Valentine's Day, blind dates, hot mess Brock Rumlow, still a triple agent! but definitely a hot mess Rumlow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22595674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: Tasked with baby-sitting Brock Rumlow on Valentine's Day, Darcy thinks it'll be an interesting way to make some overtime money. She just doesn't knowhowinteresting. Thank God she has Foggy Nelson on speed dial.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Series: Taserbones Tumblr Prompts & Tiny (Adorkable) Fics [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1484168
Comments: 222
Kudos: 555





	1. Blind Date

**Author's Note:**

> *I own nothing!

“What are you and Thor doing for Valentine’s Day?” Natasha Romanoff asked Jane. She’d stopped by the lab.

“A long weekend in Asgard,” Jane said. She was enraptured by her latest work.

“She’s underplaying it, they have their own version of Venice but with flying boats,” Darcy said, ratting Jane out. “It’s amazing,” Darcy added, with only the tiniest bit of envy.

“Do you have plans?” Nat said, suddenly wheeling on Darcy with a gleam in her eye. Darcy was single. _Uh-oh,_ she thought.

“I have...some plans,” Darcy lied. Jane must’ve missed the subtext, because she laughed.

“What?” Nat asked. Darcy was trying to do Morse Code with her eyebrows in Jane’s direction, but Jane was having an oblivious moment.

“She means Reese’s hearts and binge-watching Netflix,” Jane said distantly. 

“Alone?” Nat said. “But you cannot be alone on Valentine’s Day. You are too smart, funny, and charming…”

“Why are you buttering me like a Moscow roll?” Darcy asked, narrowing her eyes.

“There is no such thing as a Moscow roll,” Nat said. She crossed her arms and tilted her head, looking thoughtful. “You are single, you like to nurture?”

“What?” Darcy repeated. “Why? What do you mean I like to nurture?”

“You keep Jane alive,” Nat said.

“I just do Pop Tarts and emails, that’s all,” Darcy said.

“You _are_ perfect for this,” she said ambiguously. She played cloak and dagger with Darcy for ten minutes until Darcy’s curiosity got the better of her, then Nat finally confessed. “We need someone to babysit Commander Rumlow for Valentine’s Day.”

“The STRIKE Alpha guy?” Darcy said. He was uber-macho and intimidating. Hardly babysitting material.

“Yes,” Nat said. “You’re under no obligation to sleep with him, of course.”

“What would be happening, exactly?” Darcy said. Nat seemed to hesitate, then spoke.

“You’d just keep him company. Rumlow hates being alone. He likes people around him. But now that he is back in DC, it’s difficult to keep a team around him 24/7. He gets lonely, turns maudlin, and usually ends up arrested.”

“Arrested?” Darcy said.

“Because he parachutes somewhere he shouldn't be. Come with me and we’ll talk to Maria. She would probably pay you overtime.”

“Okay,” Darcy said, intrigued by the prospect of student debt-erasing overtime and this unexpected portrait of STRIKE commanders. “Lonely? Really?” He didn't seem like the type.

“He genuinely detests being alone with his thoughts,” Nat said.

“Okay. Jane, I’ll be back,” she said, standing up. They went to Maria’s office.

“He’s a classic Don Draper depressive,” Maria announced, after Nat described her plan. “He will cry if he gets in a funk, it freaks people out.”

“Like Frank Sinatra?” Darcy said, perking up. Someone had said that about the singer once. That he was moody and emotional, by turns sensitive and self-pitying. He drank, he cried, he recorded really good music. “Someone said that about him, that he was a twenty-four carat depressive.”

“What?” Maria said.

“He had depression. Did you know he loved the color orange? He painted everything that color, moved to Palm Springs. I think he was doing experimental color and light therapy on himself,” Darcy said. “Sort of. Obviously, it was all instinctive.”

“You see what I mean? She’s the perfect person,” Nat said.

“Because I know factoids?” Darcy said.

“Because you find them interesting,” Nat said. “He’ll be a factoid for you.”

“Maybe we can get Rumlow one of those lamps,” Maria said. “But, yes, please babysit him. Babysit the highly trained, perfectly grown man who knows dozens of ways to kill people, but can’t be alone for a holiday without getting drunk and trying to replicate Cap’s Smithsonian break-in for his personal entertainment.”

“Ohh, that’s very Sinatra,” Darcy said. At Nat’s raised eyebrow, she added, “he and Ava Gardner shot out street lamps on their first date.”

“Absolutely no street lamps, no museums, and no alcohol,” Maria said.

“I’ll tell him Darcy likes a quiet evening,” Nat said.

“I think she was a little judgy,” Darcy told Nat, as they left. “That seemed mean.”

“This is why you are the right person for this,” Nat said.

“But seriously, that was mean, right?” Darcy repeated. Nat sighed.

“Feelings make Maria uncomfortable,” she said.

“Yeah?” Darcy said, unconvinced.

“Also, crying men. Who do you think has been inviting him over to her house on holidays?” Nat said.

“Really?” Darcy said, eyes widening. “How?”

“She has him pretend to be her boyfriend because her parents disapprove of her dating Sharon Carter,” Nat said.

“They do?” Darcy said.

“Of course not, they love Sharon,” Nat said. “We needed a pretext for him to spend holidays with her after Rollins got transferred to the Asia-Pacific sector. It was the best plan anyone could think of at short notice.”

“So, everyone but him knows he isn’t her boyfriend?” Darcy said.

“Yes,” Nat said. “Also, he knows, but he pretends not to at Thanksgiving and Christmas. But he’s starting to get on Maria’s nerves.”

“Why?” she wondered out loud.

“She’s mad her parents actually like having him around, it’s sort of like sibling jealousy,” Nat explained.

“Okay.” Darcy stopped. “What about his family?”

“No wife, no kids, terrified of his mother,” Nat reeled off.

“Is she HYDRA?” Darcy said.

“No, she just wants him to get married.”

“Okay.” She stopped again. “What are you going to tell him about me?”

* * *

“Jane Foster’s assistant needs a date?” Rumlow said.

“Not a date exactly, just company. Jane’s leaving town with Thor and she’ll be new in DC and alone--” Nat said, voice trailing off gently. “And it would get you out of pretending at Maria’s. She can say you’re working...overseas.”

“When is she going to tell her parents about Sharon? This is getting ridiculous, Romanoff,” he said. “I don’t mind the hours, but it’s unfair to Carter.” 

“Uh-huh,” Nat said.

“And you know, I talked to them. They don’t seem _that_ homophobic.” He rubbed his jaw. “When’s the last time you saw a homophobe with a ‘Co-Exist’ bumper sticker on their Volvo?” Rumlow asked. “Hill needs to tell ‘em. Why do they even visit Hill on all these holidays?”

“I can’t say I disagree,” Nat said.

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, they seem like nice people, but that’s weird.” Nat nodded smoothly and waited. “What’s she like? Foster’s assistant?” he asked.

“Thirty-two, single, and very beautiful,” she supplied.

“Don't start that, you’re worse than my mother. I meant personality,” he said. “What’s this job gonna be like? I’m still getting the overtime, right?”

“Yes. You get overtime. Extremely funny, very down to earth, and, uh, she has a fondness for sarcastic fridge magnets and Happy Meal toys.”

“Seriously?” he said. “Well, that’s different from Hill. Okay. Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“This is her number,” Nat said, passing him a slip. “Call her and make some fun plans.”

“Fun plans,” he repeated. Rumlow furrowed his brow in thought.

“She likes animals,” Nat told him. “There is always the zoo.”

“You want me to take some chick to the zoo on Valentine’s Day?” he said.

“Yes,” Nat said. “Or somewhere else appropriate. You pick.”

“I pick,” he said. 

* * *

The crowds at the zoo were larger than Rumlow anticipated. He walked towards the entrance, talking into his cell phone. “My job is weird as fuck, Jackie,” Rumlow said. “She didn’t want me to pick her up.” 

“You’re meeting this woman at the zoo?” Jack Rollins said. He was in Indonesia with his boyfriend. The line was a little static-y. 

“Yeah,” Rumlow said. “I’m meeting her here.” He followed another couple up the walkway, peering around. “It’s fucking ridicul--” he began, then stopped.

“Brock?” Jack said.

“I see her,” Rumlow said. “I think.” He’d frozen in place. A brunette in a red sweater was standing near the entrance. She hadn’t noticed him yet. If this was her.

“Are you okay?” Jack said, laughing. “Or did Romanoff set you up with a real fright?”

“No,” Rumlow said. “I gotta go. I’ll--I’ll call.” He hung up abruptly, as the brunette turned. She seemed to perk up at the sight of him and moved forward.

“Commander Rumlow?” she said, offering her hand. He shook it. 

“Yeah. You’re her?” he said, then thought _stupid._

“Darcy Lewis,” she said. There was a pause. “Do I get my hand back?”

“Sure,” he said, grinning. “You, uh, get your hand back. Unless I can keep it?”

“What?” Darcy Lewis said, looking at him in evident confusion. He put his other hand over her wrist and traced her veins with his thumb. She looked from his hand to his face, blushing. “Um,” she said. 

“You’ve never been married, right?” he said.

“No,” she said, eyebrows going up.

“Would you like to be?” Rumlow said. She gaped at him.

“Are--are you drunk?” she said.

“I promise that I am stone-cold sober. Sober as a judge,” Rumlow said, touching his heart. He’d stashed his flask in his back pocket. “You want to see those elephants now, Darcy Lewis?”

“Um, yeah,” she said. “Brock Rumlow.” He laughed at the way she said his name. He studied her profile as they went in. She paused in front of a large map of the zoo. 

“You know, I’ve always wanted to steal an elephant,” he said. A horrified-looking Darcy swiveled to look at him.

“We are not doing that,” Darcy said.

“Oh, I was going to keep you out of it, sweetheart,” Brock said, smirking.

* * *

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Jane, I don’t know if you’ll get this on Asgard, but I’m babysitting an insane person. Insanely hot, but still. Insane! Ask Heimdall.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Forget all the jokes I made about hitting that. He keeps making jokes about stealing things. 

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Elephants.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** My heart. 

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** But mostly elephants.

**Let’s Get Astro-Physical:** Darce, why aren’t you answering your phone?

* * *

“Zoo jail?” Foggy Nelson said, walking into the room where Darcy was sitting in a chair. “Matt’s gonna love this, Darce.” Darcy huffed. 

“I’ve just been waiting for you, he’s the one cuffed to a chair,” she said, gesturing at Rumlow. “This is my date, by the way,” she said. “Brock, Foggy. Foggy is an actual lawyer--”

“Great to meet you,” Rumlow said, “I’d shake hands but..”

“You’re cuffed to a chair at the zoo,” Foggy said. “Where are the real cops?”

“I’m a federal agent, they’re being nice to me,” Rumlow said. 

“What did you do?” Foggy said, tilting his head. 

“You’ve got excellent hair,” Rumlow said.

“He attempted to bribe someone into letting us pet the baby tigers,” Darcy said.

“It was a little bribe, very minor,” Rumlow said, shrugging. “I wanted to impress you, sweetheart.”

“He seems like your type, Darce,” Foggy said, smiling widely.

“You think so, too? See, he thinks so, too,” Rumlow said to Darcy. “I keep asking if she’ll marry me, but she thinks I’m not serious.”

“I’m so glad I was in DC this week. Thank you, boring deposition,” Foggy said. 

  
  



	2. An Emotional Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

Foggy took them to a diner that stayed open late. A tired Darcy decided this was the moment to break her “Eat More Veggies in 2020” vow and got a chocolate waffle. She asked for sprinkles. Rumlow grinned at her. “What?” Darcy said.

“That’s cute,” he said. He brought out his flask to spike their coffee.

“She’s a connoisseur of candy and sprinkles,” Foggy said, apparently amused. “No thank you,” he told Rumlow.

“I sense you’re all making fun of me,” Darcy said, shaking her head at the proffered booze. “You funsuckers.”

“I’m not,” Rumlow said. “What’s your favorite one?”

“Favorite what?” Darcy said. She brightened at the sight of her waffle. She was hungry and tired of dieting. 

“Candy,” he said.

“I make my own Sno-Caps,” Darcy said. “With rainbow sprinkles. We call them Rainbo-Caps.”

“That’s creative,” Rumlow said.

“They’re a copyright violation,” Foggy supplied. “Technically.”

“He doesn’t report me,” Darcy said. 

“I’m not that good a lawyer,” Foggy joked.

“You’re a great lawyer. He used to practice with Daredevil,” Darcy said quietly. SHIELD kept tabs on the New York situation. Rumlow looked at Foggy curiously. 

“Oh yeah? That’s why your name sounds familiar. You know a buddy of mine. Frank Castle?” he said. “You represented him, right?”

“Of course you know Frank,” Foggy said, nodding and making a face at the same time. 

“We met in Afghanistan,” Rumlow said. Foggy looked at Darcy and raised his eyebrows.

“Here’s your chance, Darce,” Foggy said. 

“What?” Rumlow said.

“Shut up,” Darcy grumbled. “Don’t you say anything--” she waved her fork menacingly at Foggy. 

“What’s the deal?” Rumlow said.

“She thinks Frank Castle is attractive,” Foggy said. He sighed. “Just like Karen.”

“Their paralegal,” Darcy supplied. “She and Frank have an emotional thing.”

“Oh,” Rumlow said.

“I would never interfere with Frank and Karen’s thing,” Darcy insisted to Foggy. “You know that.”

“Of course not,” Foggy said. “You’re very respectful of things.”

“And it wasn’t Frank being all murdery, it was those photos of Frank with a dog. I said he looked cute with a dog,” Darcy said. “Just the one time!”

“Uh-huh,” Foggy said. Rumlow smirked. He kept flirting with Darcy, too. The Frank thing seemed to have emboldened him, rather than upset him. Which was weird, she thought. He made sure she had coffee refills, kept brushing up against her knee with his, and told their waitress they were getting married.

“Congratulations,” the waitress said.

“This is our lawyer,” Darcy said. “My fiancé just got out of zoo jail.”

“It was a small misunderstanding,” Rumlow said.

“I’m going to double as a witness at the ceremony,” Foggy said. Darcy glared at him. He was clearly enjoying this too much. They were eating when Rumlow looked at Foggy. 

“Can lawyers marry people or is that just judges?” he said. 

“Just judges, sorry,” Foggy said. 

“Damn,” Rumlow said.

“I might know one,” Foggy said.

“Great,” Rumlow said.

“I was told you were a commitment phobe,” Darcy said to Rumlow.

“You cured me,” Rumlow said glibly. “It was that kiss at the penguin enclosure.”

“Oh, there was a kiss?” Foggy said.

“There was definitely a kiss,” Rumlow said.

“All right,” Darcy said, drumming on the table. “Call your mother and tell her that we’re getting married.”

“This is interesting,” Foggy said, as the color drained out of Rumlow’s face a little.

“I thought so,” Darcy said coolly.

“I’ll call her,” Rumlow insisted. “Just not right now. She’d make a big fuss, want a church wedding, all that.”

“Sure,” Darcy said, voice laced with sarcasm. “I see.”

“Baby,” Rumlow pleaded.

“Pffhhht,” Darcy said. “I knew it.” She stabbed her last piece of waffle in mock-affront.

“Hold on,” he said. “You like music, right?” The diner had a jukebox.

“Oh, she loves music,” Foggy said. “Especially old music.” Rumlow hopped up and started a song. Then he came back. 

“Dance with me?” he said.

“At a diner at midnight?” Darcy said.

“Yeah,” he said. Darcy looked at her plate. It was empty, save for a few sprinkles and a puddle of syrup.

“You’re all out of waffle,” Foggy said, shrugging. “What else can you do?”

“Okay,” Darcy said. She took Rumlow’s hand.

"Great." They were dancing by the jukebox when he sighed. “We’ll have to elope,” he said.

“You don’t have to keep up this charade,” Darcy said. She was enjoying the dancing though. Even if she’d caught Foggy snapping blackmail photos behind their backs.

“What about Vegas?” Rumlow said.

“No,” she said, even though she felt a tiny thrill. She’d never been to Vegas. Always wanted to go. When she and Ian had been together, he’d been horrified when she suggested eloping to Vegas. She could, theoretically, elope to Vegas, just for a fun story...no, Jane would be mad. Jane would lecture about responsibility. And the cost of a divorce attorney. Could Foggy divorce them for cheap, she wondered.

“You liked me better with the penguins,” Rumlow said, sounding sad. He held her tighter. “Kiss me again, Darcy Lewis.” Darcy looked at him. She’d been drinking out of his flask when she’d kissed him before. Now she was sober. Soberish. But he was handsome. Darcy sighed.

It was a slow lean in. His eyes were brown with flecks of green. Right before she kissed him, his lips curved up in a smile.

They were making out when the waitress asked about a check. “I’m not paying for this!” Foggy called to them. “I demand a complimentary breakfast with my free representation.” They broke apart awkwardly; Rumlow was still chasing her mouth.

“I think you better take me home,” Darcy said, clearing her throat. Her lipstick was all over his face.

“Yeah,” he said. “Your home or mine?” His voice--like his hands and his mouth--was warm.

“Guys,” Foggy repeated.

“I got the check, Nelson,” he said. His eyes were locked on Darcy. “Don’t make go home alone tonight,” he said in a lower voice.

“Okay,” Darcy said. “I wouldn’t want you to parachute into the tiger enclosure without me.” 

“No,” he said, smirking. “I would, you know.”

“Sure you would,” Darcy said.

Foggy dropped them off at Darcy’s apartment. They were picking up their cars from an impound lot later. The zoo had impounded them. “You kids behave,” Foggy said wryly.

“Thanks, Foggy,” Darcy said. Brock was busy kissing her neck, but looked up to huff out a thanks as they clamored out of the car and into Darcy and Jane’s apartment. “Jane’s in Asgard,” Darcy said, making sure the door was locked. “You can be as loud as you want.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rumlow said, eyes alight. But he wasn’t loud--or as wild as Darcy expected. He was incredibly gentle with her. No one had ever undressed her like she was some precious, miraculous gift, but he did. He was slipping off her boots, kneeling at the foot of her bed, when he looked up at Darcy with shining eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he said in a heated, low voice. He kissed her knee. “So beautiful,” he repeated.

“Stop,” Darcy said, blushing wildly. But his touch was so soft and gentle. 

“You want me to?” he said, looking serious.

“No,” she said, laughing. 

“Good,” he said, rising to his feet and kissing her. He lowered her onto the bed. She felt utterly spoiled by the way he was with her, so slow and adoring. Like she was delicate and fragile.

“You’re wonderful,” she told him. He smirked.

“Just wait,” he said, shifting his body down and lowering his head between her legs. His hands stroked her thighs. _Up-down. Up-down._ She shivered in delight. 

“Oh my God,” Darcy said, when she felt him touching her with his tongue. He had her full attention now. When she came--her noises were embarrassingly loud--he crawled back up the bed and collapsed next to her. She was dazed. Ian hadn’t known how to do that. Or hadn’t wanted to...

“Darcy?” he said gently, clasping her face. “You all right?”

“We--we--I need to do that to you,” Darcy stuttered. Of course, she wanted to respond in kind. Who wouldn’t?

“Yeah?” he said, smirking. He put his hands behind his head. “I’d like that, sweetheart.” Darcy sat up and started unbuttoning his fly. 

* * *

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** He left!

 **Let’s Get Astro-Physical:** What?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I just woke up. Rumlow’s gone. He sexed me up and he left!

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** While I was sleeping!

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** That schmuckdoodle!

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’m pissed, Jane.

 **Let’s Get Astro-Physical:** You slept with him?

 **Let’s Get Astro-Physical:** I thought he was crazy?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Yes, he’s crazy---but I’m stupid.

 **Let’s Get Astro-Physical:** Should I slap him?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** No, but I’m counting this as part of my billable hours.


	3. Wake Up Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“Darcy!” Jane yelled. Darcy was half-asleep. She’d been hitting her snooze button for the last twenty minutes. It was seven something in the morning. The worst time of day. “Darce!” Jane yelled again. “You’ve got company!”

“Why are you even awake? I wake you up,” Darcy grumbled, stumbling out of her bedroom. She wished she could mute Jane for eight minutes, just like the snooze button, she thought. She was post blind-date tired. It had been three days since her Valentine’s Day blind date nightmare. Rumlow had called and insisted he had an emergency call out. She suspected it was fake and had hung up on him angrily. Then told Nat she wasn’t available for future babysitting via text message. 

“I woke her up, sweetheart,” Brock Rumlow said. Darcy stopped and blinked in confusion. He was sprawled at their dining table, sitting in a purposefully too-casual way. She suspected he sat with his knees apart like that so she’d look at his crotch. 

“What?” Darcy said. “What are you doing here?”

“He wanted to see you,” Jane said. “I’ll start coffee.” She looked oddly pleased, Darcy thought.

“I brought you a present,” he said, tapping the large cardboard box on the table. It had a folded top, like a milk carton. He smirked. “Good morning,” he said, making eye contact, then glancing down between his legs. Yup. Totally purposeful. 

“Why are you so chipper?” Darcy mumbled, looking away.

“I’ve been up since four-thirty,” he said. “Hit the gym, got myself some coffee, and then I got the call that your gift was ready. You look adorable, by the way. Marry me?”

“Pffhhht,” Darcy said, “I’m getting coff--why did the box move, Brock?” It had scooted an inch. That was when Darcy noticed the air holes on one side. It was marked "Live Animal," too. 

“It’s a very special present,” he said. “I struck out at the zoo, so….”

“Is that a freaking snake? I don’t like snakes, Rumlow,” she said. She glared at him. “Snakes or HYDRA anything. Or it’s tentacles,” she said sharply. 

“Ohhh,” he said, miming a chest wound. “That hurts me, Darcy Lewis. You think I would buy you something you didn’t really want? Come look,” he said, unfolding the box lid slowly.

“No,” Darcy said, feeling a weird urge to hold her breath. “And I really have to pee, so if anything scary pops out of there, I’m peeing on your shoes,” she told him. He laughed. He was wearing heavy combat-style tactical boots.

“I shine ‘em up good, they’re fine,” he said, gesturing. “Get over here.” She crept over slowly. Her eyes were transfixed by the box, ominously open. Her chest felt tight. She was going to pee if something scary came out of that box. Seriously pee. Rumlow held his hand out to support her. Nervously, she took his offered support. His hands were calloused, but comfortingly warm. Darcy was shaking.

“Ahhhh!” Darcy shrieked at the first flicker of movement. Something brown was visible over the edge of the box. Small ears. A second later, a pair of eyes appeared, too. “It’s a cat,” Darcy said. It was a tiny kitten. Golden and wild-looking. “A kitten,” she said. “A kitten with...leopard spots?”

“You didn’t pee, that’s great,” Rumlow said, looking at her bare legs.

“Please tell me this isn’t stolen,” Darcy said. It looked exotic. And potentially smuggled.

“It’s a Bengal,” he said, sounding offended. 

“From a zoo?” Darcy asked.

“Nope, just a fancy kitten, sweetheart,” he said. “Regular house cat with an expensive coat.”

“It won’t eat Jane’s face while she’s asleep?” Darcy worried out loud. He barked out a laugh.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Rumlow said. He smirked up at her. 

“I heard that,” Jane said, coming out of the kitchen with cups of coffee.

“She loves you, Foster,” Rumlow said. “She doesn’t want our baby to eat your face.” When Darcy reached for the kitten, Rumlow let go of her hands and dropped his own to her waist. 

“Are you a nice kitty?” Darcy said, ignoring the warmth of his touch. “Her eyes are green,” Darcy said, instantly besotted. 

“She’s a good baby,” Rumlow said. “Supposed to be very active.”

“Yeah?” Darcy said. The kitten smelled her face.

“She comes with bowls and food and a litterbox,” Rumlow said, still caressing her hips.

“Brock brought everything,” Jane said. She cut her eyes at him, grinning. “He really knew you wanted a kitten, Darce.”

“How?” Darcy said, wondering if he bugged her desk in the lab. That seemed like a him thing.

“Well, I called Foster and asked her what you like,” Rumlow said. 

“You helped him?” Darcy said, shocked.

“Who do you think talked him out of an actual exotic cat?” Jane said.

“I was going to get you a serval or something,” Brock said. “You can have a tiger in some states, but not Virginia, I checked.”

“I made sure he didn’t do that,” Jane said.

“She doesn’t want her face eaten, either. So, what do you say?” Brock said. “Have dinner with me and elope to Vegas?”

“Thank you for the kitten,” Darcy said, “and take your hands off my ass.”

“But it’s a yes on elopement?” he said, grinning and propping his hands behind his head. “I’ll take you someplace fun for the honeymoon.” He was flashing her his tattoos now. She'd said something about them in bed. Something stupid.

“Rumlow,” Darcy said, sighing. He pouted in response, curling his lips at her. “What are you doing?” Darcy said. “What is that face?” she asked.

“I, um, told him you liked Elvis,” Jane said in a low, guilty voice.

“Jane!” Darcy said. That was not technically accurate. Darcy _loved_ Elvis. She’d been to Graceland. She was a teensy bit obsessed. She glared at the scientist. “You traitor!” she said. Rumlow chuckled. 

“I was thinking of growing out my sideburns. You like the young Elvis or Fat Elvis?” he asked. Darcy whipped her head to look at him when he spoke.

“Never say those words to me,” Darcy said, flinching at the phrase _Fat Elvis._ “Ever. Also, your Elvis face is less good than the guy who came in seventeenth at a New Mexico impersonator event I went to,” Darcy said. “So, don’t be so smug. You’re not better than him.”

“She has no patience for Elvis jokes, it’s her one thing,” Jane said. “I should have warned you.”

“Really?” he said, looking utterly non-plussed. “No jokes? Shit.”

“What are you doing?” Darcy said to her at the same time. “Why are you feeding him information?” she asked Jane.

“I wanted a kitten, too,” Jane said.

“Oh,” Darcy said.

“Why don’t you help me practice the Elvis face?” Rumlow said. “What about this?” He did it again. It was awful.

“No,” Darcy said grumpily. “That’s worse.”

“Yeah?” he said. He grinned lazily. Then his watch beeped. “Shit,” he said. “I gotta go. Food and stuff’s in the bag, angel.”

“Angel,” Jane chortled. Darcy stuck her tongue out. Brock laughed.

“Do I get a kiss?” he asked. Darcy blushed, but then leaned forward and kissed him lightly. They had another long moment of eye contact.

“Thanks for the kitten,” she said. Her voice was inadvertently squeaky.

“You’re welcome,” he said, going impossibly smug again. He pouted, too, pursing out his lips and smirking. 

“No,” she said sternly. “Bad face.”

“All right,” he said. The watch beeped again. “Shut up,” he told it. He stopped at the door and looked back. “Take care of little Priscilla. I’ll call about dinner, sweetheart.” He smirked. “Where’d Elvis get married?”

“Vegas,” Darcy said.

“We’ll do Vegas,” he said. 

“I haven’t said yes yet,” Darcy reminded him. 

“You’ve got a crazy boyfriend!” Jane singsonged, once the door shut.

“Stop enabling,” Darcy said. “What’s gotten into you?”

“This is exactly what you do to me whenever Thor and I go on a break,” Jane said. “Feed him information.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Yeah.”

“Well, ha! This is how it feels. You get a kitten. And I get a kitten,” Jane said, taking the tiny animal out of Darcy’s hands. “I love you,” Jane told it. “You’re beautiful and I love you and you cost two thousand dollars,” she said in a dreamy voice.

“Wha-what?” Darcy said.

“Yup, I helped him choose a kitten,” Jane said.

“Oh God, I had no idea a cat could be that expensive! What if I drop her?” Darcy said. “And tell me again why you’re cooperating with him, besides kittens? This is very unlike you, Jane Meredith Foster.”

“Okay, Darcy Elizabeth Lewis,” Jane said, then her smile fell. “The truth is--” she paused. “I don’t know how to say this.”

“The truth is what?” Darcy said. Jane looked almost nervous, then spoke.

“Ian made you boring,” Jane said. “He wore you down. You never do crazy things anymore. You don’t even wear your fun socks and you put all your stuffed animals in the closet.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. Ian had wanted her to be more serious. He’d made fun of her socks, her Rainbow Brite and Bearded Steve Rogers Funkos, and her love of copper jewelry and novelty junk food. She sighed. 

“So why not have fun with crazy Rumlow?” Jane suggested in a startlingly gentle voice.

“I’m really not fun anymore?” Darcy said.

“When’s the last time you went shopping and pretended to be a French tourist?” Jane said. “Or bought coloring books?”

“A long time,” Darcy admitted. 

“I worry you’re just turning into me,” Jane said. “I’d rather you be you.” 

“Thank you, Janeybug,” Darcy said. Jane looked at the kitten. 

“Are we calling her Priscilla? That’s a cute idea,” Jane said. She looked at Darcy. “And are you going to marry Rumlow? Because I think he might be serious.”

“Oh my God,” Darcy said. “It is way too early in the morning for this conversation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bengals are *so pretty*
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DuOgvTxpHjQ


	4. Yummies and Kitties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“Another mai tai?” Rumlow said, smirking. He’d come to visit Priscilla and taken Darcy to a DC bar with a Tom Selleck mural. Darcy liked the bar. There was a general Hawaiian vibe. Her first and second mai tais had little umbrellas in them. 

“Ummmm,” Darcy said. She was agreeably tipsy. “Okay.” He flagged down a waitress and--at the last moment--took the umbrella out of her empty drink.

“Forgot this, baby,” he said, threading it in her hair next to the first umbrella. He smiled at her.

“Thank you,” Darcy said, grinning back. Her face almost hurt from smiling and laughing. God, he was so handsome. She was definitely sleeping with him tonight. “I love little umbrellas,” she said. Probably for the third time.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “I’ll buy you all the little umbrellas you want, sweetheart.”

“What are you plotting?” Darcy asked. He looked pleased with himself. As far as she could tell. Her vision was a tad glassy. “You’re being so nice, I feel like you’re plotting,” she added.

“Honey,” he said. “This hurts me.” He touched his chest, pretending to be wounded. Darcy laughed. He dropped his hand and looked canny. “There is something I want,” he said, smiling slowly. “You give any thought to that Vegas trip?”

“Phffft,” Darcy said. “You can’t be serious! Nobody elopes to Vegas this soon.” She was thinking of Ian. 

“No?” he said. 

“Ian wouldn’t and we were together for years,” Darcy said. “Years and years. He was so horrified.” She mocked his accent. “That’s terrifically tacky, Darce,” she said. “It couldn’t be more tacky.”

“Huh?” Rumlow said.

“That’s what Ian said to me. That Vegas couldn’t be more tacky,” she explained doing air quotes and the accent again. Rumlow shook his head.

“He’s lousy,” Rumlow told her. “You deserved better.” His expression shifted as he leaned into kiss her. Darcy giggled drunkenly as he pressed his lips to her face. He dotted her cheeks with noisy, playful kisses.

“Why would you even get married?” she murmured, wondering aloud. “I’m already sleeping with you!”

“What, you don’t wanna marry me if I’ll sleep with you?” he countered, voice teasing.

“Why marry the Agent Hottie if you can get all this yumminess for free,” Darcy said mirthfully, putting her hands on his shoulders. Her thumbs rubbed his neck. “And kittens! Yummies and kitties,” she said.

“You know why,” he said, looking at her hands. 

“No I don’t,” she said, laughing so hard that she snorted. “Whyyyyy?” she said, leaning against him. “Wait, is this so you can tell your children that you and mama got zoo arrested?” Darcy asked, giggling. He lit up a little.

“Wouldn’t that be a fantastic fucking story, though?” he said. “How many kids you want?”

“Crazy,” Darcy said, shaking her head. “One or two,” she said, playing his collarbone with her fingers like a piano. He nodded.

“I’ve got a plan,” he said cryptically. “Drink your mai tai, princess. We’ve got somewhere to go.”

“I do not have toothpaste or contact lenses, I cannot fly to Vegas with you,” she announced. Rumlow smirked. It was stupid sexy. 

“Oh, yeah?” he said.

Damn her ovaries, she thought. She was seriously tempted to run off to Vegas. She reminded herself that she was Priscilla’s mother now and had to be more responsible.

* * *

“This is a creepy alley,” Darcy said, as she got out of Rumlow’s vehicle. He’d pulled them around to the backdoor of a business. “I do not want to get murder murdered, Brock Rumlow.”

“Murder murdered, sweetheart?” he said, putting his arm around her. She was a smidge stumbly. Just a smidge. Otherwise, she was fine. Provided there was no murdering. Or running.

“I know Thor, I’d totally end up on one of those tv shows. Dateline. Or a Netflix documentary. There’d--there’d be ominous music and hints about my tragic fate,” she rambled. They weren’t at the airport, which was a surprise. “Where are we?” she asked him, leaning heavily.

“We’re seeing a friend of mine, sweetheart,” Rumlow said. He rapped on the door labeled A13.

“Is your friend a serial killer?” Darcy said.

“Nah,” Rumlow said. He grinned at her. “His business can be pretty cutthroat, though.” The door swung open and a grey-haired man stared at them.

“I showed up here just to see if you were serious, motherfucker,” he said abruptly. “It’s one am.”

“C’mon, Jake, you know my word’s good,” Rumlow was saying, as Darcy’s gaze fell on the man’s pants.

“Are you wearing pajamas?” she said.

“Your boy here woke me up,” Jake grumbled. “She’s the one, huh?” he added, looking between Darcy and Rumlow. 

“Of course,” he said. “Didn’t I tell you that?”

“You’ve got, uh, nice umbrellas,” he said.

“Thank you,” Darcy said.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Rumlow said, pride evident. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

“You must be something, to want to put up with him,” he told Darcy, as the three of them walked inside. Jake locked the door behind them and started turning on lights.

“Where are we?” Darcy asked.

“I’m gonna cover your eyes, princess,” Brock said. “It’s a good surprise.”

“Don’t let me fall!” Darcy said.

“I gotcha,” he said.

* * *

Darcy woke up curled against Brock’s bare chest. He felt so good, she thought, half-awake. Where was she? She blinked and fumbled for her glasses. Thankfully, she was in her own room, she realized, not a Vegas hotel room. Or murdered. Her phone screen said four forty eight. They must’ve come back to her place after all those mai tais. She loved mai tais, but dear God, her brain didn’t. Right now, her head was thumping like a drum. “Ughhhh,” she said, wiggling closer to Brock. She’d just go back to sleep. That would work. Sleep. Feel better. Never drink that many mai tais again. Those were her new rules for life. Darcy closed her eyes. Sleep, she thought.

“Hey, baby,” Brock said, voice raspy. 

“Shhh,” Darcy said. “It’s five in the morning.” He laughed at her. The sheer gall of the man. 

“It’s noon,” he said. Smugly.

“No, no,” she said.

“I’ll get you water,” he said. “This is my fault, I shoulda hydrated you better.”

“Yes,” Darcy said. Clearly, it was his fault. He was the classic bad influence. She was vaguely aware of him climbing out of bed.She awoke a second later when someone shrieked. “Whaaa?” Darcy said.

“Sorry, Jane,” she heard Brock say. He came back carrying water in one hand and Priscilla in the other. Completely naked. 

“What’d you do to Janey?” Darcy said.

“She don’t like naked men in the kitchen,” he said wryly. 

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “She used to fuss at Thor about balls in the vicinity of breakfast.”

“How do you feel about that?” he asked, climbing back into bed with her. 

“Um,” she said, “I’m maybe less particular,” she said, eyes on his body. “Which you know.” She’d made him undress for her last night.

“Uh-huh,” he said, smirking and passing her the cup. Darcy drank the water greedily, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Water was wonderful. It was the best thing in the world--

“Ow,” Darcy said. Something had stabbed her in the mouth. She looked at her hand in surprise. A ring. A big ring. On her left hand. The round diamond--sparkly, her brain noted--was flanked by more stones. It looked like a flower. It was a wow ring. Had he really bought her this? “Oh,” she said, stunned.

“You gotta remember you’ve got that on now,” he said, tapping Priscilla on the nose. The kitten batted back at him. “You know, I wasn’t sure about that one at first, but it looks good, baby.”

“Your friend Jake the diamond guy,” Darcy said, memories flooding in vaguely. He’d taken her to a jewelry store. Snuck her in the back and had her try on whatever she wanted. They’d bought an engagement ring. “How’d you meet him again?” she asked weakly, looking at her hand. 

“He loaned SHIELD some diamonds for a mission,” Brock said. Priscilla chose that moment to take off. “She’s done with me,” Brock said, chuckling. He turned his full attention back to Darcy. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the ring.

“So, he gave you a good deal on this, right?” she said. “Because it looks expensive and I’m not remembering a price.” Brock laughed at her. 

“You getting cold feet on me?” he asked. 

“More like scared paycheck,” she joked. 

“C’mere,” he said, laughing. He pulled her in close. “Don’t worry about it,” he said in a warm voice. He kissed her slowly and she sort of forgot about her anxiety. 

* * *

They spent all day in bed together. She only nicked him with the ring once or twice. “You know,” he whispered in her ear, “I’ve never had this much fun with a woman who made me bleed before.” She pulled her mouth away from his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll take it off,” Darcy fretted, momentarily horrified. “Where?” He was still on top of her. Brock turned his head, grimacing.

“I think you stabbed my ass,” he said, expression quizzical. 

“Oh, no,” Darcy said.

“You weren’t this sad when you got my face twenty minutes ago,” he groused. 

“I was busy at the time!” she insisted.

“Uh-huh,” he said.

“Well, I thought you could blame that on the gym?” she bargained. He laughed. “Are you bleeding?”

“Am I bleeding?” he said wryly. “Of course I am.”

“Get up and I’ll get you a band aid,” she said. 

“No,” he said. “I don’t wanna.” It took some convincing--she kissed him a lot--but she finally managed to get out of bed to find the band aids. 

“Awww,” Darcy said, when she returned with a few. He was laying on his stomach. “You poor baby,” she said. He turned his head to look at her.

“I’m a poor baby?” Brock asked.

“Yes,” she said, putting the first band aid on his left cheek. His butt was very cute, she thought. Darcy sighed.

“What?” he said, smirking.

“You’re so pretty and tan,” she told him. “Where else?” 

“Are those Hello Kitty band aids?” he asked.

“I bought them for Priscilla scratches,” Darcy said, grinning. “I wasn’t planning on ring scratches, so really, this is all on you.”

“All on me?”

“Yep,” she said.

“Get back in this bed,” Brock told her, voice heated. "You're going to eat those words, sweetheart."

"Can I really?" she said, delighted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm envisioning a ring like this: https://pin.it/4yeekyS


	5. Call Our Lawyer Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“Squeeze over, baby,” Darcy said, trying to make it to the coffee pot as Brock scrambled eggs. He had put on clothes for this trip into the kitchen, at Jane’s insistence. It was six in the evening, but they were playing catch up with their meals. He looked at Darcy, frowning, as she scooped coffee into the filter. “Boo! I spilled,” Darcy said. She was sleepy. Slightly sex-groggy and dreamy, really. She grinned at him, then pushed the grounds off the counter into the filter.

“You still want to marry me, right?” Brock asked her. There was a nervous note in his voice. Darcy looked up sharply.

“Of course,” she said, smiling. As soon as she spoke, his expression changed. He beamed back at her.

“Good,” he said. 

“Uh-huh,” she said, leaning against him for a second. 

“Watch out, pan’s hot,” he said. She’d moved nearer to the stove.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, pulling away to put water in the coffee maker. She hummed off-key, listening to it brew, and shimmying slightly. She was happy. “I love that sound,” she told Brock. She yawned as the coffee sputtered.

“What kind of wedding do you want?” he asked suddenly.

“Oh,” Darcy said, closing her mouth in surprise. She hadn’t thought about a wedding. “A fun one,” she said automatically. “A really relaxed, fun wedding, nothing serious.”

“Yeah?” he said.

“And Jane can be my lead bridesmaid or whatever,” Darcy said. She leaned around the kitchen wall. Jane was half-asleep on the couch. She’d been working on a theorem and then fallen asleep, so she was resting her face on a notebook. Priscilla had curled up on her back. “Jane will you be my bridesmaid? The boss of the other bridesmaids?” she yelled. Jane lifted her head.

“Huh?” she said.

“The one that stands closest to me during the wedding?” Darcy said. “And is in charge of all the other wedding stuff?”

“Yeah,” Jane said. “I’ll make Erik wear pants, I promise.”

“She’s gonna make Erik wear pants to the wedding,” Darcy repeated to Brock. He’d moved onto making bacon. 

“I thought we were having a fun wedding?” he joked. “Why’s he gotta wear pants?”

“A pantsless wedding?” Darcy said.

“You hate pants,” he said.

“True.” She leaned out of the kitchen again. “Jane, change of plans! It’s a fun wedding, no pants required.”

“Fun wedding, okay,” Jane repeated sleepily. “No pants at the fun wedding.”

“We gotta call our lawyer friend,” Brock said, “give him the good news.” 

“Do you think he’d really officiate?” Darcy wondered.

“There’s gotta be an online thing, right?” Brock asked.

“Hey, how many times have you been married before?” she teased. Then she googled how to marry people. It would be great to have Foggy marry them, Darcy thought.

  
  


* * *

“So, you’re standing in the kitchen and Rumlow announces he and Darcy are getting married after their, what, second date? And you don’t ask any questions?” Sharon Carter asked Jane. They were at lunch. Jane had repeated the story of Darcy and Brock going out and coming home with a ring on Darcy’s finger. Brock was off at a meeting, but Darcy and Jane’s lunch table had gathered a small crowd. Everyone wanted to see the ring. And photos of Priscilla.

“He was naked!” Jane repeated to their coworkers, laughing.

“She actually shrieked,” Darcy clarified. “That might count as a question.”

“It was an implied, _where are your pants?”_ Jane said. 

“I can’t believe you came home engaged to Rumlow,” Maria Hill said, for the second time. She seemed stunned. 

“I can,” Jane said, grinning. She gave Darcy a happy smile. “This is a total Darcy thing.” 

“Excuse me, Oprah calls this living your best life,” Darcy said mirthfully. The last forty-eight hours felt slightly unreal. Brock kept taking her around to show people the ring. She had gone from shock to stunned happiness at his warmth and excitement. It was easy to be swept away by his enthusiasm. She’d never been with anyone who made her feel this giddy--or welcomed into a boyfriend’s circle. She’d been hugged by the STRIKE team, been grandly presented to the people in Analytics, and met the other guys at his gym. Even Jane--normally more cynical--was excited for them. Darcy felt buoyed along, like a happy rubber duck in a pool. Her face ached from smiling.

“It’s a great ring,” Sharon said, seemingly less stunned that her girlfriend. She bumped Maria’s shoulder.

“It is nice,” Maria said slowly.

“How did you pick it out?” Sharon asked.

“Ummm, mai tais?” Darcy said, laughing.

“I feel like Romanoff and I are responsible for this,” Maria said.

“Yes,” Darcy said, “technically, you introduced us, so you are responsible.” She grinned. “Did you want to be in the wedding? We’re throwing a big party.”

“Ooooh, yes! You and Sharon and Natasha should be bridesmaids with me,” Jane said.

“Oh God,” Maria said.

“Maria has wedding phobia,” Sharon teased. “She panics every time we go to one--”

“I do not panic, I’m just uncomfortable with elaborate displays of emotion, Ed Sheeran songs, ice sculptures, and groomsmen trying to grab my ass,” Maria said. Darcy laughed.

“You two are too cute,” she told them. “And I don’t think Jack’ll grab your ass.” Brock had already decided his former partner would be best man.

“Definitely not,” Maria said.

“I might,” Sharon said. 

“Where is Nat?” Jane wondered.

“Mission,” Maria said.

“I can’t wait to tell her, she’ll be so excited,” Darcy said. 

“I’m sure Nat knew how compatible they were,” Jane said, looking canny. “She probably had this in mind all along.”

“Oooh, she plotted!” Sharon interjected.

“She does do that,” Maria said.

* * *

Darcy was happily leaving lunch with Jane when she spotted Brock headed towards them. “Hey, babe!” she said, smiling. He looked...odd. Pale. He didn’t smile back. 

“Hey,” Brock said. He swallowed. 

“Is something wrong?” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Can we talk? I just found out some news.” Darcy nodded, then looked at Jane.

“I’ll see you upstairs,” Jane said. She walked away and then Brock took Darcy’s hand, leading her to an alcove. He was squeezing her hand tightly. It almost hurt. 

“Ow, Brock. What’s going on?” Darcy asked. 

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat and relaxing his grip. “Baby, I--” he began, then sighed. He rolled his chin up, refusing to meet her eyes. “This fucking sucks. Oh God, baby,” he said. “I don’t even know--”

“You don’t want to marry me?” Darcy said slowly, feeling her stomach fall somewhere in the vicinity of her knees. She looked down at his hands, afraid to meet his eyes, and waited.

“No,” he said softly. “I do. I do want to marry you. I just--I’m already married.”

“What?” Darcy said.


	6. A Real Piss Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“It was an undercover thing, we staged a wedding to sell some arms to an associate of Klaue’s,” Brock said, trying to explain. “Not a real marriage.”

“But you’re married to Jack?” Darcy said slowly.

“I didn’t even know we could legally get married in France,” Brock said hurriedly. “Not seven years ago.”

“You’ve been married for seven years and you didn’t know?” Darcy said, too loudly. Passing agents stared at them.

“It was in France,” Brock said, as if that meant something. He was clearly upset. Then Darcy heard a voice behind her. 

“You owe me some wool sweaters, mate,” a voice drawled. “Or is the seventh anniversary gift copper? I might like some of them moscow mule glasses--”

“Would you shut the fuck up?” Brock said, glaring. Darcy turned. An incredibly striking, tall man was standing behind her. He was gorgeous--he had cheekbones like scaffolding and slicked back hair. She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. He gave her a grin that was almost frightening. 

“I’m Jack,” he said. “The husband. Just flew in from Jarkarta when they called. This mornin'.”

“Jesus Christ,” Brock said, as Darcy took the hand he offered tentatively. “You are not my goddamned husband--” Brock began. 

“Darcy,” she said, nodding. “Your husband’s fiancée. Good of you to rush over.” Jack barked out a laugh. It was oddly like a wolf yelping, she thought. Or a coyote. He had a wolfish face. 

“You’re getting married to this lout, huh?” Jack said, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. 

“I was supposed to, but you beat me to it,” she quipped. Behind her, Brock made a dismayed noise. Darcy felt something bubble up. She registered the odd, choking sound before she realized the laughter was coming from her own chest. She started to shriek and giggle wildly, breaking away from Brock and Jack to lean against the wall.

“She’s taking this well,” Jack said, as Darcy doubled over with laughter and slid down several feet.

“Honey--” Brock began. “We’ll fix this, all right?”

“Have a divorce in no time,” Jack said. “Maria’s on it.”

“A divorce?” Brock said slowly. Darcy wiped her eyes, looking at him. His face was doing a funny thing.

“What?” Jack said.

“Can I still get married in a Catholic ceremony if we don’t get an annulment?” Brock wondered, voice low. It was almost like he was whispering.

“Fuck if I know, my parents were hippies who joined a bloody commune,” Jack said. “What difference does it make?”

“Ma’ll have my head if I can’t get married in church,” Brock said grimly. “Lemme look into this annulment thing, all right? I’ll talk to Maria.” He made to move towards Maria’s office, then turned back to Darcy. “Baby, please don’t be upset with me? I’ll get it sorted.”

“I’m not upset,” Darcy said, trying not to laugh again. He touched her shoulder, then stalked off, feet stomping. The line of his shoulders was tense. She could see him grimace when he looked back for a moment.

Darcy looked at Jack. “How do you feel?” she asked him. He grinned, expression feral.

“I can’t believe I wasted my prime reproductive years trapped in a marriage with ‘im, darl,” Jack said. Darcy started to giggle. 

“He’s--he’s so like this,” she said, stressing the last two words. “How is he like this?”

“The man has a gift for chaos,” Jack said, smiling at her. He helped her off the floor and led her to a nearby bench. Darcy rummaged in her messenger. 

“Would my fiancé’s husband like a Hershey’s Kiss?” she offered. 

“Appreciate it,” he said, taking the chocolate.

“Have you met his mother?” Darcy asked. Jack grinned again and started to laugh. “What?” Darcy asked, fascinated.

“She’s tough on him, but she’s a fun woman,” Jack said. “We get on. She’s gonna love this one.”

“Should we tell her?” Darcy asked, feeling the first tendrils of a truly naughty idea. Jack burst out laughing.

“He’d have a heart attack,” he insisted. 

* * *

“I need to find out if I can annul the--the thing,” Brock said, gesturing vaguely to Maria.

“The marriage?” she said crisply. He rolled his eyes.

“How was it even legal?” Brock asked, feeling a stubborn resolve to root out the culprit.

“Someone’s fraudulent paperwork was a little too good,” Maria admitted.

“Do I get a name?” Brock said.  
  
“Absolutely not,” she said.

“I can hack databases, Maria--” Brock began.

“I can put an official reprimand in your file, Rumlow,” she said, voice icy. “You’re dismissed. We’ll resolve this responsibly.”

“Fine,” Brock said, wheeling out of the office. He felt too-warm and disoriented. Was Darcy angry? She didn’t seem angry, not when she’d realized it was Jack and not someone he’d really been romantically involved with. Brock huffed. This bullshit, he thought. He stomped out to the hall, swearing under his breath. Brock looked at the spot where he’d left Darcy. No Darcy. He looked around, panicking. “Honey?” he called out. Had she left? It was like a fist was holding his heart. 

“Down here!” she called, sounding light. He moved towards the sound of her voice. He relaxed as soon as she came into sight. She and Jack were sitting at the end of the hall on a bench in front of a wide window. Both of them were peering down at Darcy’s lap. Jack was talking and laughing.

“Can you believe that, Angela?” he said, and Brock’s heart dropped somewhere to the vicinity of his knees. Very, very faintly, he heard his mother respond. He could recognize her voice, if not her words. Darcy looked up at him and beamed.

“Your mom says she wants to invite Jack to Christmas, if he’s her son-in-law!” she said cheerfully.

“Jesus Christ,” Brock said, holding out his arms. “You told Ma?”

“I’m very excited!” Angela called distantly.

“She’s excited,” Jack said. “You didn’t tell her you were engaged?”

“Fuck,” Brock muttered. “Fuck.”

“He’s very excited, too,” Darcy told his mother. “Everyone’s excited. We think you and Jack should have a divorce party.”

“A divorce party?” Brock repeated, feeling oddly numb. “You want me to have a divorce party?”

“I’m going to be the emcee!” Darcy said brightly. “As long as you’re okay with it?”

“Uhhhh,” Brock said, rubbing his forehead.

“Say yes!” his mother yelled. Her voice was tinny.

“C’mon, mate. You can’t disappoint your Ma and Darcy. The girls want a real piss up,” Jack said.

“Yup,” Darcy said. She looked at Jack. “What’s a real piss up?”

“A real party,” Jack said, grinning his feral smile. “We’ll invite everybody.”

  
  



	7. An Officially Legal Engagement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“Turn down the music! Turn down the music!” Angela yelled. She’d taken the mic from a very tipsy Jane, who’d been telling the _Brock is naked in my kitchen_ story again to the guests at the divorce party. “Thank you, Jane. You’re lovely. You have beautiful skin and you’re a genius. I just want to say,” Angela said, slightly tipsy herself on the little platform. They’d done decorations. She beamed at Jack. “That you are my favorite son-in-law. So handsome. Isn’t he handsome? And tall!” 

“Oh God,” Brock muttered, arm around Darcy. That caught Angela’s attention.

“Don’t you scoff! You’re very lucky. You had a very good husband and you didn’t even know!” she said. The guests--Darcy had invited everyone from SHIELD, including Natasha and Maria and Sharon--laughed uproariously. “He’s such a good son-in-law,” Angela continued, “that I couldn’t bear to part with him for anyone less wonderful than you, honey.” That was aimed at Darcy. 

“Thank you,” she mouthed.

“You’re so funny and beautiful!” Angela said. “I don’t know how he does it!”

“Thanks, Ma,” Brock said. The crowd tittered. Jack took that moment to literally sweep Angela off her feet, picking her up. 

“I haven’t left you yet, darl!” he vowed, beaming at Angela. “I’m over him, though.” He’d leaned towards the mic, so everyone could hear. “Congratulations, Darcy.”

“Show them the ring, honey!” Angela yelled, as Jack carried her towards the bar. Brock was more interested in that. He grabbed the mic and pulled Darcy onto the platform. 

“Let’s show everybody the ring,” he said.

“Okay,” Darcy said. She waved her hand, so the ring flashed. “Here it is,” she said, feeling oddly shy. Brock kissed the side of her face. He wasn’t entirely sober, either. 

“Lemme tell you, I fell for her the moment I saw her at that zoo,” Brock announced.

“And then he got me detained and we went to zoo jail!” Darcy said.

“It was fun!” Brock insisted. “That reminds me--we have a thing. Where’s our lawyer? He’s here someplace. Foggy!”

“Anybody seen a sweet-faced blond with excellent hair?” Darcy said. “This is his part of the evening.” The crowd parted and Foggy squeezed through, carrying a drink.

“Right here, right here, you lunatics,” he said. He had a manila folder under one elbow. He climbed the platform. “Somebody take my drink--thank you, Jane,” Foggy said. He handed over the drink, took the mic from Brock and Darcy, and cleared his throat. “Ahem,” he said, flashing the folder. “Inside this folder, I have the official divorce papers--”

“Jack’s signed, right?” Brock cut in. “Jack, no jokes--”

“Mr. Rollins has signed. All we need is your signature, Commander Rumlow,” Foggy said with mock solemnity. “And then you and my crazy friend--”

“Hey--” Brock said, puffing up a little in offense. The crowded hooted.

“It’s not untrue,” Darcy admitted, shrugging. She kissed Brock, which was enough to distract him. He kissed her back passionately.

“As I was saying, if you would stop sucking face long enough to sign this paperwork, you and Mr. Rollins could be officially divorced and you can continue with your distinguished career of zoo crimes,” Foggy said, keeping his serious voice. He wiggled his eyebrows. In the audience, Jane had lost it and was clinging to Thor, cry-laughing. Brock broke away from Darcy and leaned towards the microphone.

“Give me a fucking pen,” he said in a low, purposefully sexy voice. He signed with a flourish and then dipped Darcy. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you more!” Darcy yelled, kissing him enthusiastically.

“We have love, folks,” Foggy said. He waved the paperwork. “And an officially legal engagement.” There were cheers from the crowd. They had them turn the music back on because Brock wanted to dance.

“You’re a free man,” Darcy told him, swaying slowly. She looked into his eyes.

“For now,” Brock said. “Elope with me? We could go to Vegas?”

“That’s crazy,” Darcy said, beaming at him. She loved him so much. They were kissing on the dance floor when she had a thought. “Who will keep Priscilla?” she wondered. “Jane and Thor want to be our witnesses.”

“Oh,” Brock said. “We need a cat-sitter.” He was thinking as they swayed when Darcy heard a cool voice at her elbow.

“Sharon and I can do it,” Maria said, smiling. “My parents wish you a happy divorce, too.” Darcy had invited them. Brock’s face lit up.

“You’d do that for us?” he said happily.

“Sure,” she said.

“Thank you so much!” Darcy said. “And I need to say hi to your parents, too!”

“She’s the greatest, she sets us up and then she volunteers to keep our cat kid? I love you, Hill,” Brock said, in full happy drunk mode. “You tell ‘em about Sharon, though? You need to do that, it’s not nice for Carter’s self-esteem,” he said, removing his hand from Darcy’s back to wave a finger at her.

“Uh, yes,” Maria said, going a little nervous. It was a tiny swallow, but Darcy noticed. That made her feel guilty.

“About that,” Darcy said. “I need to tell you something, honey--”

“Yeah?” Brock said.

“When Maria set us up, just the first time, she paid me overtime,” Darcy said. “For the zoo date. Just the zoo date.” Brock blinked at her.

“I was worried you were lonely,” Maria said quickly. “Especially on holidays. My parents always knew about Sharon, we were just worried about your moods,” she added. Brock was still blinking. Abruptly, he smiled widely.

“You were all in on this, huh?” Brock said. He looked at Darcy. “You bandit!” he said. “She was paying you to date me--”

“Just for the zoo!” Darcy said.

“And then I give you a ring,” he said, laughing. He was visibly delighted. “You’re a hot little thief!”

“I am not!” Darcy shot back. She looked at Maria. “Tell him it was just the one!” That made Maria laugh. 

“It was just the first date,” she vowed. A smiling Brock hugged her and kissed her temple noisily. 

“You’re a good woman, Hill,” he said affectionately. Darcy thought his obvious display of affection embarrassed Maria a little--she was making faces when Sharon came to rescue her, trailed by Maria’s parents. There were hugs and introductions and congratulations and then Brock pulled Darcy away on a pretext.

“What?” Darcy said. He was smoldering at her.

“What about the sex on that date, huh?” he teased. “You do that for free?” A blushing Darcy tried to keep her face serious.

“Yes,” she said proudly. “Yes, I did.”

-The End-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your comments and kudos! I had a fantastic time with this one!


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